


the life I've left behind me is a cold room

by whowhatsitwhich



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Speculation, Wishful Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 12:45:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6329758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whowhatsitwhich/pseuds/whowhatsitwhich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’d been on the road for days before she saw the first signs of other people. Holed up in a tiny house, she spread out the map she’d taken from Alexandria and tried to come up with a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the life I've left behind me is a cold room

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. usual disclaimers apply. lyrics from sweet surrender by sarah mclachlan. contains spoilers for episode 14, season 6. might not want to read if you haven't seen that one.

 

_I’ve crossed the last line_  
From where I can’t return  
Where every step I took in faith betrayed me  
And led me from my home ~sweet surrender, Sarah McLachlan

She’d been on the road for days before she saw the first signs of other people. Holed up in a tiny house, she spread out the map she’d taken from Alexandria and tried to come up with a plan. Travelling alone was best avoided if possible but there were advantages. She could move quickly, carry what she needed with her, and decide for herself which way to go. 

Carol didn’t sleep that first night, sitting by the window with her chin resting on her knees as she stared out into the darkness. Already, she missed the familiar sounds of children playing and the wind chimes Carl hung on the porch, much to Judith’s delight. She missed the feel of cool granite under her finger tips, the smell of cookies baking, and the clatter of boots up and down the stairs. Her eyes burned and stung but she refused to let the tears fall. Leaving had been her choice and she would live with it. 

Avoiding the main roads became a priority after she barely made it into the tall grass at the edge of a field, lying on her stomach with her knife clenched in her fist, watching as a group of eight men exited their truck and fanned out on both sides of the highway. She couldn’t hear what they said but from their gestures, she surmised they were expecting company. That was her cue to head in the opposite direction as soon as they got back in their vehicle and sped off, a walkie squawk drowned out by the roar of the motor. 

A forlorn set of train tracks cut a swath through the woods and she held a quick debate with herself before deciding to follow them. It was four miles to the small town where she hoped to spend the night. According to Heath, it had long since abandoned so she hoped to take shelter in a subdivision on the outskirts. The run teams had used it a few times in the past and she knew there’d be a few supplies on hand. From there, she planned to boost a car and take her chances. 

At first, the noise didn’t register. It blended into the late summer buzz of katydids and song birds and the low murmur of the river. But then she heard the hiss of tires on gravel and the thrum of a powerful motor as it turned in her direction. She froze, eyes scanning the horizon as she dropped prone to the earth, her heart pounding in her ears. 

Her arms and knees ached as she combat crawled her way to the edge of the tracks and over the side, the stones rough under her hands. Carol raised her head, wary and ready to run, and tried to pinpoint the direction of the sound. She cursed under her breath when it abruptly cut off and palmed her knife. Fight or run. Live or die. Why did it always have to come down to that?  The scuff of booted feet on rock came too close for comfort. Rising to a crouch, she tightened her grip on her knife and then sprang to her feet. 

Running headlong into a pair of familiar blue eyes staring at her over the tip of a green fletched arrow brought her up short.  She knew the instant he recognized her and how the sight of her affected him by the way the bow slipped forgotten from his fingers. And there was the pained, grateful, disbelieving way he said her name. 

“You hurt?” He questioned as he stepped in close, a hand hovering in the air between them. He made as if to touch her but shied back, running his fingers through his hair instead. 

“No,” she could hardly get the words out as she took him in, from his messy hair to his dusty boots. It seemed like forever since she’d last seen him, angry and distant and covered in mud. She looked her fill, trying to wrap her mind around the sight of him standing there. “I’m okay.” 

The silence stretched out in an endless string of seconds. Neither made a move to look away but finally he broke it. “We can’t stay here. Too out in the open. Ain’t safe.” 

“I know.” She waved vaguely in the direction she’d planned to go. “”There’s a place not too…”

“I gotta place,” Daryl cut her off. His hand skimmed her elbow and down until it brushed lightly against hers and then away as if he’d been burned. “C’mon. We’ll figure out our next move after we get under cover.”

“Our next…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought, sure she’d misheard him. “Daryl?” 

“We’ll figure it out,” he repeated and this time when his fingers brushed hers, they caught and held. “We’ve got stuff to say and plans to make but we can’t do that here. So come on. Please.” 

* * *

The ride to the small house he’d discovered was its own kind of torture. Her arms wrapped tight around him and her cheek pressed into his back, she allowed herself to cry for the first time since she left Alexandria. Her goodbyes had been committed to paper the night she’d gone. It was easier that way, cleaner. But she couldn’t tell him no. Not with him standing right there in front of her, looking at her like she was a ghost. She couldn’t get the words out. 

For his part, he was quiet as they checked each room to make sure the house was clear. He didn’t speak when they ate a meager dinner and washed it down with bottles of warm, flat water. He did nothing but watch her with those too blue eyes that saw everything, through every wall she’d worked so hard to build. 

“You wanna go back?” It was softly spoken, the thinnest thread of a whisper. 

Part of her wanted to rage and scream; another, to lay her head on her knees and weep. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I don’t know if I can be there anymore.” 

“There’s other places, other groups,” Daryl returned. “Another life, if that’s what you need.  We can start over. Try again.” 

“We,” she repeated in a wondering tone. “You…they…Rick and the others…” 

“There’s other places,” he echoed. “We can try Hilltop. If you don’t like it there, then we can ask where the other settlements are that they trade with. It don’t gotta be Alexandria. It can be anywhere.” 

“But you’re supposed to be…”

“With you,” he insisted. “I’m supposed to be with you. Alexandria. Hilltop. It don’t matter we go but we’re going there together.” 

God, how she wanted to tell him to go. To leave her and never look back. _I can’t…_ she chanted inside her own mind, the names on her list floating like specters around her.  But there was another voice. _Stay,_ she longed to whisper. _Stay here with me. Tell me it’s gonna be alright. I swear I’ll believe it if you say it._

“You remember what I said back in Atlanta. About not being the same. It’s true. All of it. I can’t be that Carol, that person from before, anymore. I don’t have it in me. She’s gone.” 

His hand lifted and hovered before he hooked a finger under her chin. “You’re here,” he insisted. “With me and somehow, some way we’re gonna be alright. But you gotta let me in. I can’t….I…”

Tears beaded at the corners of her eyes and overflowed, etching acid trails down her face as she stared back at him. “Lose you too,” she finished softly. “You haven’t.” She slipped between his outstretched arms and rested her cheek on the smooth leather of his vest. Squeezing her eyes shut, she did a slow ten count to coincide his heartbeat, thumping reassuringly under her ear. “You won’t. 

_Take me in, no questions asked_  
You strip away the ugliness that surrounds me.  
Are you an angel? Am I already that gone?  
I only hope that I won’t disappoint you  
When I’m down here on my knees.  



End file.
